


fools of us all

by MemeKonHQ (MemeKonYA)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, teenagers being dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 08:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7041343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemeKonYA/pseuds/MemeKonHQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I...” Yamaguchi broke the silence again, his voice tight, shaky.</p><p>This was bound to be a big one, then.</p><p>“I’m in love.”</p><p>Kei almost stumbled over his own feet then, almost choked on his own spit.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>What.</i></p><p> </p><p>(Or: Yamaguchi has taken to telling Kei things about his day while Kei has headphones on. This makes Kei feel... a certain way.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	fools of us all

**Author's Note:**

> Teens being dumb. For real.  
> Not beta'ed. Oops.

“Kei?”

Kei puts actual effort into remaining unperturbed, shoulders slouched a little, steps just as lazy.

It itches to not reply, like it always does when Yamaguchi calls him by his first name all flustered and soft; vulnerable in a way that never fails to scare him a little, to seem unfathomable and either unbelievably brave or stupid beyond measure.

Yamaguchi slows down a little behind him, and Kei has to remind himself to keep pace, to keep up the façade.

“I… Kei?” He sounds earnest and doubtful, and Kei can picture how he looks right then perfectly and effortlessly, eyes downcast and one finger tracing a path of freckles over his cheek, rubbing at the skin in an old habit from back when he was in middle school that he hasn’t yet unlearned, even though auntie constantly chastises him about it.

Kei takes a deep breath, careful to be quiet, as quiet as before.

Yamaguchi has taken to doing this lately. ‘This’ being a weird little ritual of telling Kei things about his day when he’s wearing his headphones, apparently under the assumption that Kei blasts something along the way.

Kei had been tempted to give him a good scare and talk back out of nowhere before, mostly because it somewhat hurt him that Yamaguchi believed him to be tactless and uncaring enough to just drown him out on their way home alone together.

What stopped him had been the fact that Yamaguchi told him things then he never brought up anytime after, things that Kei knew he’d been keeping in, things that he’d been bearing all on his own because one of Kei’s many failures as a human being seemed to be not being trustworthy enough, or maybe even not making enough of an effort to communicate to Yamaguchi that they were friends. _Real friends_. The kind of friends who were on equal ground with each other and shared things.

Being perfectly honest —which he generally wasn’t—, Kei knows it’s more the latter than the former.

Anyway, Yamaguchi told him these _things_. Things like how there was this one asshole in class 2-2 that made it his life’s mission to make scathing remarks about him whenever he was in hearing distance.

(Kei had made it his life’s mission, in turn, to loom menacingly over said asshole the very next day, giving him his best evil grin, the most sadistic one he could muster, while Yamaguchi was conveniently away with the volley-dorks for some sort of impromptu _emergency!_ lunch time practice.

Kei hadn’t needed to open his mouth to scare the guy witless.

Now he walks by them with his head hanging low, as it should’ve always been.)

Or how it was _slightly_ disheartening to get constantly approached just because of Kei. How it _kinda_ fed into all these insecurities he had.

(There wasn’t a lot Kei could do about that one, except being extra nasty to anyone who got anywhere near them. And it didn’t even help, since Yamaguchi kept apologizing with nervous laughter and his face flushed an embarrassed pink at the flocks of girls who’d been scared by Kei’s aggressive surliness. And that had made some of them start looking at Yamaguchi in this _way_ that got on every single one of Kei’s nerves.

After _that_ he’d just gone back to ignoring everyone— and if following that he’d gotten a little more demanding about Yamaguchi’s time and attention, calling him over whenever he got distracted by whoever-she-is-san and what’s-her-face-san’s soft smiles and greetings and inane chatter… well, there’s no definite proof of a correlation, and Kei will laugh in the face of anyone accusing him of— of _anything_. Whatever.)  

Or how he’d had a fleeting crush on Yachi-san. One he’d given up on because Yachi was obviously smitten with Kiyoko-san.

(Kei had bitten his lips against an _it’s mutual_ , because despite whatever everyone might think about him, he _can_ have some tact.

When it comes to Yamaguchi, at least.

He’d ignored the tight, uncomfortable coiling sensation in his gut— _lunch_ , he’d told himself, and he listened to Yamaguchi’s soft peal of self-deprecating laughter as he wrapped that one topic up.)

 _Things_. Things that Kei wanted to know but didn’t quite know how to ask for.

So he swallowed the guilt down and made some half-assed justifications and kept his headphones on— even though the weather was warmer now, and he didn’t need to protect his ears from the biting cold wind anymore; even though, in fact, he felt kinda sweaty and gross more often than not.

He kept the headphones on. And he listened. Like a total asshole.

( _Like a total creep._ )

“I...” Yamaguchi broke the silence again, his voice tight, shaky.

This was bound to be a big one, then.

“I, um.”

Kei knew Yamaguchi was fidgeting behind him, didn’t need to turn around to know he was fiddling with his fingers, maybe picking at nonexistent dirt under his fingernails.

“I’m in love.”

Kei almost stumbled over his own feet then, almost choked on his own spit.

_What._

Yamaguchi made a tiny, anguished, _wounded_ sound. Kei burned to turn around and face his best friend, half to do something so Yamaguchi would stop sounding like _that_ , and half to ask him _what, just_ what _the hell was going on_ — _what had he just said, he couldn’t have heard_ right—  

“With you. I’m in love with you, Kei.”

 

Yamaguchi acts like nothing’s happened after that.

(He’d tapped Kei’s shoulder when they’d reached his bus stop —and _how_ had that happened so quickly?— and bid him goodbye with eyes slightly puffy and red rimmed. He’d smiled at him as if he didn’t even expect Kei to notice something was off, or maybe as if he thought Kei would, but wouldn’t _care_ — and if that was the case, then why the hell would he even _fall_ for him, when he deserved so much better.

The bus came into view, and Yamaguchi waved him goodbye one last time with a smile that made his nose scrunch up before turning around.)

Kei lets him get away with it.

 

“So what you’re saying is, little Tadashi finally confessed and you were… kind of a dick. An ugly dick.”

“Don’t call him ‘little Tadashi’.”

“Oh _ho_ , a bit jealous, aren’t we? Who would’ve guessed it from you, Tsukki.”

“—And stop calling me Tsukki.”

“Remind me: just _who_ called _who_ here?”

“And I’m already regretting it.”

“Such _disrespect_.”

“I’m already regretting it, _Kuroo-san_.”

Kuroo snorts on the other end of the line, loud and ugly.

“How _cute_ , Tsukki.”

“And how is Kenma-san doing?” Kei asks, feeling vindictive, fake interest thick and his mocking smirk bleeding into his voice.

Kuroo hums into the receiver.

“Fine, just wonderful. Cute as hell. Still texting Shorty about three hundred times a day. Same old, same old.” He says, still annoyingly chipper; he’s quiet, though, when he adds, “Do you really wanna talk about my depressing unrequited crush thing for my best friend? Because that’s a weird reason for you to call. Since you’re… you.”

Kei clucks his tongue.

“Stop being maudlin. It’s gross. He likes you back. For some reason. You are just stupid and blind.”

“As _flattering_ as you are, you absolute _charmer_ , I think I know my childhood best friend better than you do. Now, let’s go back to Little Tadashi. Did he stutter? I bet he did. He looks the type. All cute and shy.”

“You’re shit at changing topics, Kuroo-san. And you’re still blind. But whatever. Be my guest. Drag this on forever, it’s entertaining to watch you be pathetic.

“...And he didn’t stutter, fuck you.”

… Yamaguchi had _kinda_ stuttered, but first: fuck Kuroo. Second: he had no way of knowing, anyway. And third: fuck Kuroo, The Encore.

“Sure he didn’t, Tsukki.” Kuroo needles him.

There’s a distorted rustling noise in the background. Kuroo is readying himself to hang up on him then, since contrary to all expectations he believes in keeping tight sleep schedules (for ‘health benefits, maximum efficiency, and peak performance’, the _nerd_ ). That means he’s probably about to—

“You know what you have to do, Tsukishima.” _There it is._ “You’re head over heels for that kid. You know that, right? I know you don’t need me to counsel you through that. And you’re lucky enough he _likes you back_. Suck it up, man. It’s not like little Tadashi doesn’t know you’re kind of a dick already. I think he’s sweet and misguided enough to think it’s part of your charm or whatever. Apologize. Smooch him. Send me a pic so I can collect my winnings with Bokuto.”

Kei rubs the bridge of his nose, where there’s a strange, prickling tension. Despite Kuroo’s attempts to lighten the mood up by taunting him, he’s just— tired.

“I lied to him.” He says, muffled and quiet.

“I know.” Kuroo replies, weirdly soothing.

Kei must be truly fucked, if the king of jerkfaces can muster that much sympathy for him.

 

“I know,” Yamaguchi mumbles.

Kei’s heart stutters.

“You know.”

“Yes, I...” He grimaces and looks up at Kei through his eyelashes, “I’ve… always known? Kind of? Your headphones aren’t… well, they aren’t _that_ good. I saved up for them for months— But still— And I know your ears are really sensitive to the cold, so I— I kinda figured pretty early on.”

Yamaguchi’s mouth _runs_ , like a river after the dam’s been broken, and Kei is rooted to his spot. His head is a cacophony of _you knew you knew you knew_.

Yamaguchi keeps going on, hands trembling slightly even as he wrings them and gestures and waves around with them. His feet shuffle and Kei’s eyes are drawn to them momentarily, digging dirt up, one shoe with the laces undone, the other scuffed.

“You get this face when I’m talking with Shouyou, Tsukki, like you’re smelling something really gross? I… I figured out you wanted me to— to tell you things too? The kind of things I tell Shouyou. Or Shimada-san— You don’t seem to like Shimada-san. But!” Here he stops, and Kei looks at his face, radiating heat and red from the roots of his hair all the way down to his neck and then to the loose collar of his shirt. “But sometimes I’m not confident enough to tell you some things. It’s not you, Tsukki! It’s just— I feel like I worry over pathetic things and—”

“Do you feel the same when you talk to Hinata?” He finds himself interrupting. He doesn’t quite know _why_ — or he knows why, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge the intense surge of _envy_ inside him.

“Yes.”

The reply shocks him into staring right in Yamaguchi’s eyes, and they’re glassy and beautiful and sincere.

“But it’s Shouyou, and it’s different. I don’t— I don’t _feel_ the same way about Shouyou, Tsukki. Even before I knew _why_ , it always felt different with you,” Yamaguchi mumbles, averting his eyes for a few seconds before he seems to will himself into looking him in the eye again (always strong, always brave).

“Why did you— ” Kei fumbles for words, not knowing quite how to ask there and then, behind the school gym with the wavering noises of the last stragglers leaving.

Yamaguchi has never really needed Kei’s words to get exactly what he means, though.

“Because that way you could… just ignore it if you wanted to.”

Kei frowns.

“Why would I—?”

“I don’t know, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi interrupts him, sounding slightly mortified, “it wasn’t the best decision. People are… People are dumb when they’re in love.”

“I know,” Kei concedes, reaching a hand out to trace his headphones.

Yamaguchi looks up at him then, eyes wide.

Kei takes a deep breath, lets it go. He squares his shoulders.

“I know. Because I’m in love with you, too.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widen even more.

There’s only the sound of faraway footsteps and conversations for a few moments, until all of a sudden Yamaguchi’s tripping over his own feet in his haste to pull Kei down into an eager, nose bumping, delighted kiss.

Kei’s hands move on their own, cupping Yamaguchi’s face as Yamaguchi sighs into their kiss and his hands move onto Kei’s shoulders, warm and strong and firm and holding him where he is.

They kiss until Yamaguchi’s phone beeps, startling them both. Kei frowns at the device, mouth curling in disgust, and Yamaguchi lets out this amused little noise that makes Kei’s stomach drop.

He reaches out for Yamaguchi’s hand. Yamaguchi smiles at him, broad and sunny, his nose scrunched and his eyes half closed as he squeezes Kei’s hand and pulls him into a second, slower kiss.

 

Their walk home that evening features hand holding, Yamaguchi telling him _things_ (stuttering over the more embarrassing parts, or letting go of Kei’s hand momentarily to cover his face and whine in mortification), and Kei with his headphones hanging around his neck, as he listens to them.

(There’s also an instance of Yamaguchi calling Kei his _boyfriend_ , and Kei literally tripping over nothing and almost falling face first into a bush, but Yamaguchi swears never to tell anyone about that.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> [ Come and hang out with me on tumblr!](http://memekon.tumblr.com)


End file.
